The Farmer's Son

Chapter 38 Time of the Seasons

SEPTEMBER

For the next few weeks there was only time for reaping, eating, and sleeping. The once quietly swaying fields were now falling before a swarm of tractors, as farmers loaded trucks and drove to and from the grain elevators. Corn, alfalfa, and wheat were measured and graded, with payments paid out in kind, and for most of the family-owned farms, breaking even was the best case scenario.

When the dust settled, the Walker farm was one of the few lucky enough to have earned a profit that quarter.

As the fields became mounds of overturned earth, and the summer heat and hecticness gave way to cool, tranquil autumn, Alan left for the subsidiary. His absence left both men and Bear subdued, and the big house that once rang with the laughter and voices of teasing friends quieted as four became three.

And thus passed November, December, and January.

*

FEBRUARY

The big red truck hurtled along the empty road under a dome of blue sky scattered with clouds. Behind the wheel Noah squinted through the windscreen into the glare of the setting sun, while in the back Bear sat comfortably, head out the window, tongue flapping in the breeze. In the passenger seat sat Alan, in jeans and an olive colored jacket with the sleeves rolled back, and a yellow t-shirt underneath. Around them endless fields stretched to the horizons, some planted with winter crops, some bare tracks, in the lingering touches of a mild winter already looking towards spring.

Head tilted toward the open window, a cool breeze nipping at his face and ruffling his hair even as the sun warmed his skin, Alan smiled.

Glancing at him, the lines of Noah's face softened fondly. He had missed Alan these months, and while Ray was fine company, there was nothing like having his son home. "How they treating you, son?" he asked. "You missing anything important?"

"It's all important, Pa," Alan said with a laugh, propping an elbow on the window, feeling the vibrations of the truck go all the way up his arm. "But I'd rather miss that than Aunt Marge's visit. And she'd come find me and kill me if I did."

"You and me both," Noah said with a grunt of healthy respect for his sister.

Alan laughed again. "How long they staying for?"

"Five days," Noah replied. "The girls are on winter break, so they're driving down."

"Winter break, or spring break, Pa?"

"Whichever," Noah grunted.

"I'm looking forward to seeing the girls," Alan said, even as he felt pangs of envy towards his cousins. His aunt and uncle always took them on trips whenever they were on break from school. "They must have gotten so big." He turned his face back to the window. "How's Ray?"

"Good. A real help around the house and in the fields. Been harder and harder to keep him around, though."

"What do you mean?" Alan asked, head snapping around, brows furrowed.

"Sal's got him in the garage every time I send him to town, and Geary calls and needs help with everything from the toaster to the tractor. Sheriff called for him, too; damn near gave me a heart attack when he did."

Alan laughed. "He's popular," he said.

"For the right reasons this time," Noah muttered. He was still disgruntled about the way Ray was treated at the town hall meeting. "Down with the Mayor right now."

With a smile Alan turned back to the window, but trepidation swelled in his chest. After the hustle and bustle of harvest and then Alan preparing to leave, and then leaving, he and Ray had barely spoken since that night in Ray's room. They'd parted on good terms, but things between them had been strained, even awkward before Alan left. Maybe time had made it better, but coming back to his Pa, who was as unchanging as a mountain, was different than coming back to a young man who changed season to season.